Adáriel
by Ariandir
Summary: Haldir is arrogant, cold, proud and keeps his emotions hidden from the world, but an unexpected encounter leads to something that Haldir never thought he could, or at that, would do - love.
1. The Rider and the March Warden

Author's notes: I know what you're thinking...oh _dear_ god, she's started on _Haldir_...well, you'd be right. As I'm sure you all know, I do love Legolas very dearly *blushes vibrantly as Legolas appears in doorway with his tunic hanging open...*O-o*...heh heh?*, but I feel it's about time Haldir got a share of the action with his own she-Elf. I actually feel slightly affronted that Haldir romance fics are so few and far between - I mean, I know the guy's got one hell of a bad attitude, is more than just a _little_ arrogant, has a strange nose and kinda freezes when people give him hugs, but hey! He still deserves a little something for all his troubles. After all, he did sorta save the day at Helms Deep...So, people, (Hobbits, Men, Dwarves and fellow Elves), _where_ is the_ love_?! Why, in this fic of course! *^-^* Well, I can only say that I _really_ hope you guys all like this, that I've read, thoroughly enjoyed and would like to mention two of my fav. authors on FF.net: Celebrian and Sirannon who are standard-setters to Haldir-romance-fic writers everywhere (check out their stories: Elusive Heart and Those You Love), long live Elves and all things pointy-eared, and lastly, I'd love some feedback on this, so please, please, _please_ leave me loadsa luvly reviews, but most of all, please enjoy reading it. Much luv, hugs and muffins, ~*Arian*~ *^-^* 

Disclaimer: Everything in here that sounds familiar is the work of the wonderful JRR Tolkien. Everything else in here that you either haven't heard of or is crap would be mine. *O-o* 

Adáriel shivered, and pulled her cloak tighter about her form, cursing as stray strands of hair whipped across her face, obscuring her vision. 

Tossing the tresses back over her shoulder with an agitated jerk of her head, she narrowed her dark eyes against the howling sleet-laced wind, so that her crow-feather lashes nearly touched her cheeks. 

"Tulion." She whispered in a low voice to her mount, who stood beside her, enduring the foul weather with characteristic patience. The horse snorted, sending out small white puffs of warm breath that were soon lost in the blizzard. 

The she-Elf sighed after another attempt to see through the sleet, and reluctantly mounted again, leaning forward to place a hand on the horse's proudly arched neck and give the command. 

"Noro lim, Giliath." She requested gently. 

Giliath dipped his head in compliance, before picking up his hooves and trotting forward against the wind. 

Adáriel hunched her shoulders, and pulled her cloak ever tighter, trying to shut out the unpleasant sting of wet ice connecting with her skin. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed, the sleet was still finding every inch of exposed flesh it could, and she shuddered violently as she felt a freezing pellet slide down the back of her neck. 

"Oh, Giliath." She sighed mournfully. "I wish we were back at home." 

Giliath bowed his noble head in agreement, closing his generous dark eyes. 

-~*~- 

Haldir, despite himself, shivered against the bitter cold. There was a serious snow storm on the way - the taste of impending chill on his tongue told him so. 

"We are in for bad weather." His fellow guard remarked from across the flet. Haldir said nothing, but continued to stare out over the lower treetops to the thick, grey front of clouds that was drifting silently towards them from the North West - no doubt coming down from Forochel way. His keen blue eyes could just about see the white haze that hung beneath the smoky clouds, indicating heavy snow. 

Haldir sniffed, and drew his grey cloak closer about him. Across the flet, the other Elf smiled. 

"Cold, Haldir? I didn't think you were sensitive to low temperatures." 

"You were put up here to keep watch, Thalion, not to wisecrack." Haldir replied stonily, not even dignifying the guard with a blink. 

Thalion's smile widened at his comrade's reaction, but he remained quiet and turned his attention back to the weather front. 

Haldir cursed silently. 

_'That storm is going to make patrols even more difficult - the Enemy are bound to take advantage of this...Aiya! I do not need this inconvenience right now!'_

A quiet trill of bird song from the base of the tree below them pulled Haldir from his thoughts. 

Thalion quickly whistled something back, before turning to Haldir. 

"A rider has been spotted near the borders by some of Siril's patrol." 

"Solitary?" Haldir asked Thalion bluntly. 

Thalion nodded. 

Haldir breathed heavily down his nose, but didn't speak further. He was already angered by having to leave his post. Casting the rope ladder down through the hole in the centre of the flet, Haldir then signalled in short patience for Thalion to put down his bow and quiver. 

"It is misfortunate enough that one of us has to leave the post. Having two leave would be sheer stupidity. You are staying here, Thalion." 

"But..." 

Haldir shot Thalion a cold glare. 

"That is an order." He told his comrade sharply, before disappearing down the ladder. 

-~*~- 

Adáriel could feel herself weakening. The long ride from home had near exhausted her, though she thanked Valar she had not had the misfortune to encounter Orcs or any other creatures of such like. 

On the brighter side, it was now snowing, which, Adáriel's opinion, was better that freezing, wet sleet any day. 

Her hair hung about her shoulders, soaked and bedraggled, and occasionally, a drip would fall down the back of her collar, causing her to shiver. 

"Salaa diolien lye marth caela." She reminded herself with a weak, long-suffering smile. 

_Still, let us be thankful for what luck we have._

Beneath her, Giliath continued to ford ahead through the thick snow in his smooth, steady gait, his dark head bowed. 

The snow swirled around them in the largest flakes Adáriel had ever seen, like thousands of frozen feathers drifting from the grey sky. Indulging herself in a childhood pleasure, Adáriel stuck her tongue out of her mouth, and smiled as a large white snowflake landed on the tip, biting into her warm flesh with its freezing claws. 

Adáriel was travelling from Southern Mirkwood - a place where the growing presence of evil was not unfelt. Rumours told that the One Ring had be found again, others that Sauron himself had risen and taken physical form, but Adáriel was sceptical, maybe even cynical about these tidings. After all, they were only rumours, and the land was full of them, passing from mouth to ear to mouth to ear like the very pulsing of the Earth's blood. 

Adáriel furrowed her brow a little in thoughtful concentration, and burrowed deeper into her cloak against the biting blizzard, even as she burrowed deeper into her thoughts. 

Northern Mirkwood was safe, she mused, or at least saf_er_. Their Northern kin were ruled by Thranduil, where he lived in the Halls near the East border of Mirkwood, up-water from Long Lake and the human settlement of Esgaroth. Adáriel shuddered. And the Lonely Mountain. 

But in Southern Mirkwood, she thought perhaps more bitterly than she meant, things did not fare so well. The evil spirits and beings that were kept at bay by Thranduil and his people in the Northern reaches of Greenwood were manifesting and becoming stronger in the South. Not that Southern Mirkwood had been a safe place previously. Her people existed alongside giant spiders, werewolves and many other hideous creatures, and had long since become adept at defending themselves, in numbers or alone, at close quarters or otherwise with knives and bows. And despite herself, it was a fact that because her people had had to become so cautious and skilled at combat that she was immensely proud, just as many of her kindred were. It was, perhaps, also an issue that sprouted a certain bitterness for their Northern cousins, who lived in such comparative peace and security, but Adáriel could not feel so much resentment towards them; her companion Legolas was _prince_ of the Northern Mirkwood Elves, and her friendship with him meant that she could not feel as hostile to Thranduil's people as some of her own people did. 

It was beginning to get dark. The blizzard had subdued somewhat, and now the snowflakes seemed almost to fall nonchalantly from the sky, in no particular hurry to reach the ground. About Adáriel, what bleak Winter light there had been was starting to fade, and with the failing light came failing safety. 

Adáriel's routine and instincts dictated that at light-ending, her bow came out, and as she rode she calmly drew an arrow from her quiver and fitted it to the string, the bow resting in her lap. 

Giliath ducked his dark head and snorted as a snowflake landed on the end of his soft nose and tickled the skin. Adáriel gave a quiet laugh. 

"Giliath." She whispered, her hand briefly leaving the shaft of her bow to pat the horse's proud neck. 

-~*~- 

Haldir crouched low in the shadows, the misty tendrils of his breath unfurling into the frigid, darkening air. 

The Elf allowed his forefinger to stray slightly from the string of his un-drawn bow, to caress the soft white fledging of the arrow. The action, for some reason, brought a little more warmth and comfort to his heart. Not because he was afraid - quite the contrary - but because feeling an arrow fitted to his bow told him that he was doing his duty, to protect the borders of Lothlórien and his beloved Lord and Lady. 

All the same, it didn't stop him from feeling angry about having to leave his post. Thalion was a fool, Haldir thought bitterly, and he had little tolerance for fools. He had already dismissed one young idiot from his guard this season, and having to dismiss another would put him in a very foul temper, not to mention in a difficult position. His pride told him that he and his guards were the very best for the job, that they could quite easily surpass the skills and dedication of any other Elven military force of equal number, maybe even larger, but that _was_ their problem. Numbers. Much as Haldir's pride refused to admit the possibility that they were struggling to carry out their duties, his logic told him that it was true - no matter _how_ dedicated and well-trained his guards were, there simply weren't _enough_ of them to cover the entire perimeter of Lothlórien at any one time. It was a concern that had been nagging in the back of Haldir's mind for several months now, but that incurable pride of his told him that somehow, if left to its own devices, the problem would just take care of itself. Or get worse, his logic had warned. 

Haldir brushed the thought aside angrily, and threw his full concentration into staring out into the growing darkness, his blue eyes narrowed. 

From somewhere to his left, the faint trill of birdsong reached his sharp ears, and Haldir bowed his head slightly as he listened. Pausing for an instant after it finished, he whistled a few well-tuned notes back, before shifting slightly in his position, and beginning to pull his bowstring taught with his fore and middle fingers. A report had just reached him that the solitary rider was approaching his post from a little way back in the direction the birdsong had come from. 

_'Good' _Haldir thought. _'A single arrow should be enough to fell it from its mount.'_

Breathing silently, the Galadhrim captain held the bowstring taught in his pull, and waited. 

-~*~- 

The snow had almost stopped altogether, and through the occasional drifting flakes, Adáriel could see a fringe of tall trees, silhouetted against the dark sky. Common sense told her that this borderline of trees must lead into a larger forest further back, and for this reason, she kept an especially tight grip in her bow, ready for any adversary that might appear out of the crisp dark between the trunks. 

The worst of the blizzard clouds had passed over, trailing behind them a thin silver veil that softened the deep blue of the night sky, and through which white, needle-point stars had begun to glimmer. 

The snow on the ground looked unmarred and perfect as Giliath walked on, leaving only a trail of light hoof-marks in his wake. 

To Adáriel, it could almost have been peaceful, had it not been for her inherited vigilance. A growing combination of fear and excitement told her that something was hidden in the shadows of the forest over to her right, watching her, waiting to attack. 

Despite herself, Adáriel was surprised to feel her fingers trembling with anticipation as she began to pull the bow string taught, and her dark eyes flickered over the forest edge, attempting to locate her opponent. 

-~*~- 

The rider was in sight now. Not quite in range, but in sight. Haldir narrowed his eyes to slits as he raised his torso and straightened his back, pulling his bowstring back ever further, ready to fire. 

But as he stared intently at his quarry, he hesitated for a moment, his head moving forward slightly in disbelief. The rider was female. He watched her closer still. And judging by Her build and features, Elven-kind. Haldir's hand faltered on his bow. This changed everything. Should he shoot? Then, on coming to and finding himself relaxed and with his bow and arrow resting on his knee, he gave out a quiet, angry growl and raised them again to aim. He was being a fool. The gender of his target changed nothing. Male or female, there was a good chance that anything unfamiliar that travelled this close to the borders was a servant of the Enemy. He sighted along the shaft of his arrow, and waited. 

-~*~- 

Adáriel could sense it - there was an incredibly tense feeling to the air in a place along the trees on her right. So tense that she could have split the atmosphere with her knife. More than ever now, she was certain that she was being watched by something close to the edge of that forest. 

She kept her fore and middle fingers pulling at the bowstring, all the time scanning the darkness with her keen eyes. Whoever was watching her, she would not let them so much as take a breath before she loosed her arrow. They were a foe - that much she knew, and letting so much as a second pass before she acted could mean that it was the very last of her life. 

-~*~- 

She was coming closer - any second now, Haldir told himself, squeezing the fledging of the arrow between his fingers. He looked out in the darkness, subconsciously counting down the moments. 

Even through the dusk, Haldir could see Her face as she came nearer. She was...fairly attractive. Then Haldir scoffed at his own observation - She was Elven! Of _course_ She was going to be attractive. But wait...She was..._more_ than just fairly attractive...Her hair looked to be of a dark shade, possibly brown or rich auburn - he couldn't quite tell in this light - and hung loose down Her back and about Her shoulders. Her eyes, dark like Her hair, were rimmed with long crow-feather lashes, and the Elven-design of Her riding gear, in its reds, golds, russets and browns fell beautifully from Her form, its flowing sleeves folding back at Her elbows, revealing the long under-gown sleeves which went on down Her forearms, presumably ending just past Her hands. Her skirts rippled down over Her mount's flanks, contrasting with the almost black colouring of the horse - probably a dark bay, Haldir mused - who moved with a proud grace through the snow, his face noble, and his mane long. 

Suddenly, Haldir's dark eyebrows bent in scorn, and he drew his bowstring to it's full extent in anger. What was She doing to him? She was playing tricks with his mind. Making him loose his concentration. Haldir let out a low hiss, and glared at his target. 

-~*~- 

That confirmed it. Adáriel heard a low hiss from within the trees on her right, and instantly her eyes flickered to the source. Her eyebrows raised in surprise. Just about identifiable from the dark of the forest was a silhouette crouching amid the foliage, watching her intently from within the shadows, the outline of a drawn bow brushing the side of its head. 

Adáriel turned quickly in her saddle, and Giliath, well versed in his rider's body-language in battle, moved into a smooth, flowing trot, keeping her moving fast enough that it would be hard for an opponent to train an arrow to her from the ground, but legato enough that she would not have too much difficulty in aiming herself. 

Adáriel felt the adrenaline pumping into her blood, and she raised her bow and sighted along her arrow to the dark shape. 

-~*~- 

Haldir cursed. She'd found him. It was only a matter of heartbeats now before She fired. He could clearly see the sleek metal head of Her arrow glinting in the light of the newly risen moon. He sighted. 

-~*~- 

Adáriel narrowed her eyes, and watched. Her opponent was sighting. She aimed. 

-~*~- 

Fewer heartbeats still. Haldir aimed. 

-~*~- 

The time was closer now. Adáriel checked. 

-~*~- 

Complete concentration. Haldir checked. 

-~*~- 

...Beat...Beat...Beat...Beat... 

RELEASE! 

-~*~- 

Both Elves fired in the same heartbeat. Adáriel barely even saw Haldir's arrow flying towards her, keenly trained on her head, before she deftly ducked and avoided the missile. A matter of sheer luck she reflected, as she straightened up and saw the arrow continue in a magnificent arc before piercing the snow about fifty metres from her. 

Haldir, however, was not so lucky. He registered that Adáriel had also loosed her arrow, when he felt a sudden explosion of solid pain in his shoulder. Then it went numb, and a strange sort of throbbing arose, along with a swelling heat. Reaching up to his shoulder, Haldir's fingertips touched a long wooden shaft protruding from his grey tunic. 

"She hit." He said quietly to himself. Then he turned back to look at the rider. "My congratulations!" He projected his voice out so She could hear him, and despite his considerable injury, rose gracefully to his feet, his bow still in his right hand. 

Adáriel started at the voice that came out of the trees - it was _obviously_ directed at her. Its tone was cool, calm, closed and drawling, and she found herself more than a little curious to meet its owner. 

"I mean no harm." She answered. "I was just travelling past this way." 

That enchantment the rider had been weaving on Haldir's mind was growing stronger again in his conscience. 

_'Say something more!' _It pleaded. _'Let me hear your voice again!'_

__"Fool!" He whispered venomously to himself. "Lower your bow." He said then, louder, for Her to hear. 

Adáriel, albeit hesitantly, obeyed. The speaker's last words had seemed not merely a request, but more of an order. Adáriel also felt a certain trust in her hidden watcher - there was a lilt to His voice that she couldn't place, but the accent told her, fairly confidently, that he was Elven-kind. 

"Yanaa lle? Naa Edhelnoss?" She tested. 

_Who are you? Are you Elven kindred?_

"Úma." Came the short reply. 

_Yes_

__Adáriel breathed a sigh of relief, and dismounted. She was safe. 


	2. Her name

Author's Notes: Hi peeps! My God! I never expected so many reviews for this story - your response has just been fantastic! Thanks to Kalythianna, ScarlettArrow, Renee101, Lady-Willowish, JadeGoddess, wertyleigh, Eradwyn, melissa, Nika-Chan, IceCreamCone23, Twinkle(), LadyLaura020,TASAKAPEOTKAUU, Crystal, Emerin Mornlight (luv ya! *^-^*), AngelBloom(), Ponytail Goddess, Lady of Imladris(), unknownjuliet(), ren(), Tricia, Ivy Burrows, Starscape Dream and Elfie - as I'm sure you can all see, this story is apparently quite popular. Well, I'm very sorry that Chapter 2 has taken so long to upload, and hopefully, the next one won't take so long. No; rephrase that - the next one will definitely_ not_ take as long. Better. *^-^* Thank you again so much for all your reviews, and I hope this chapter lives up to the expectations of the first (suddenly, I feel like Peter Jackson...). Keep well, and loadsa luv, hugz and muffins, Arian xxx *^-^* 

Adáriel breathed a sigh of relief, and dismounted. She was safe. 

Placing a hand on Giliath's strong neck to steady him, she turned and looked expectantly out into the dark, waiting for her adversary to appear; she was kept waiting for no more than a few moments. 

A form melted from the forest, and Adáriel felt her eyes widen a little, but then she couldn't help it. The male Elf approaching her, she found, was _very_ attractive: his hair, stained dark by the night, was a light, silvery blonde, and fell down over his wide shoulders - the shoulders of an intensely trained archer. He wore Elven garb: a tunic of shadow grey material, and hose of a slightly darker shade, that looked fairly heavy-duty and substantial, in the study of which Adáriel decided he must be a warden or patrol guard of some sort, who spent much of his time out in the open, enduring all weathers; a job which _would_ require resilient clothing. He wore also a cloak of the same material, though it was woven with silver thread, giving it an iridescent sheen in the frosty moonlight. His sleeves were that of his under-tunic, which was black, a colour akin to that of his boots which trod softly over the snow-laid ground. 

An Elven long-sword hung from the belt around his waist, and a bow was still grasped in his moon-paled hand as he walked towards Adáriel. 

_'Yes' _She thought._ 'He is very handsome...'_

Yet it was then, and only then, that Adáriel noticed the long arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder, and from that moment on, she wondered how she could have been so blind as to not have seen it before. 

"I hit you!" She exclaimed, more in self-surprise than to him. 

Haldir looked down his nose at the she-Elf. 

_'Quick witted.' _He observed with silent cynicism. 

"What is your business," He asked aloud. "To travel so near our borders?" 

Adáriel looked at him. 

_'Borders?' _She puzzled. 

"My business is not with you." She answered him evenly. "And I mean not to travel near any borders but those of Lothlórien." 

Despite herself, Adáriel blushed under the other Elf's searching gaze. 

"Then you journey is over." He answered finally. 

Adáriel frowned. 

"No - Lothlórien is at least a *league's ride North of here." 

The male Elf - she didn't know quite how he did it - seemed to intensify his gaze, without actually changing anything in his features or his eyes. His expression also remained quite unreadable. 

"What are you navigating by?" He asked. It was a simple, passive enough question - not accusing in any way - but for whatever reason, Adáriel suddenly felt incredibly stupid. 

"A map." She replied, trying to keep her tone sounding as reasonable as possible, despite her ambiguous embarrassment. 

Haldir chose to ignore the humiliation that was evident in the she-Elf's beautiful fa...in the she-Elf's _face_, and shift the subject. 

"This is the realm of the Lady of Light." He informed her coolly. "But whatever your business, be it with her, or anyone else, I cannot allow you to continue on your own way in." 

Adárielhad been expecting him to say something of this sort along the course of the conversation. She nodded, absently mindedly caressing Giliath's smooth hide with her fingertips. 

Then it suddenly surfaced in her mind that all this time, the other Elf had been standing talking to her with her arrow sticking out of his shoulder, with no apparent consciousness to the injury. And she found the whole concept incredibly amusing. 

Haldir noticed a sudden light appear in the she-Elf's eyes, and that, on close inspection, the corners of her mouth were twitching. He wasn't quite sure whether to ignore her mirth, or whether to question it, as he would have done of one of his guard. 

"How long will it be before you have that treated?" The she-Elf asked, her dark eyes, no less full of amusement, flickering to the arrow shaft in indication. 

"Not long." He replied in his drawling, unconcerned tone. Inside, however, he was puzzled. Normally, he was entirely sure of how he felt and how he appeared to feel to others, but now, for some reason, that usual self-assurance was completely thrown by her question. 

_'Do I look like I'm in pain?' _He wondered. _'Is it that obvious to someone who doesn't even know me?'_

Then he felt the age-old anger flare in his stomach. 

_'Why do I care? Why does it matter to me what she thinks? It doesn't. I am unknown to her, and that is how it should, and will stay.'_

"Who are you?" 

No matter how much Haldir denied it afterwards, there was something deep inside him that was pleasantly disturbed by the soft sound of her voice. 

"Haldir." He answered. "I am March Warden of the Lothlórien Guard." 

Unbidden, the she-Elf replied with a disarming smile that made Haldir's heart give such a jump that he nearly started in surprise. 

"I am Adáriel of Mirkwood." Then, as an afterthought, she added with indoctrinated bitterness: "_Southern_ Mirkwood." 

Something in Haldir's mind sneered at her words. 

_'A Mirkwood Elf.' _It scoffed. _'Inferior to the Galadhrim, then.'_

The March Warden couldn't help but feel disgusted at his own thoughts. Aside from the fact that she did things to his head that most confused and angered him, Haldir banished the degrading voice from his mind, and vowed never to listen to it again. But he didn't regret. It wasn't in his nature to regret. 

"Come." He said quite suddenly, turning from Adáriel and starting back towards the trees. "You will follow me." 

Adáriel cocked a sleek eyebrow after the March Warden. 

"Will I now?" She murmured. 

~*~ 

It had started snowing again when they reached the flet. Silver-light lanterns hung above them in the branches, making it look as though the smooth girths of the trees were coated with frost. 

Haldir gave a trilling whistle, and suddenly, a rope ladder with slender rungs unfurled down the trunk. Standing back, yet still wearing an unreadable expression, Haldir gave a barely perceptible nod to indicate that Adáriel should go up first. 

Adáriel took a deep breath, and then went lightly up the ladder. At the top, another male Elf also with blonde hair (but green eyes) offered out his hand to help her onto the flet. Adáriel gave him a smile of thanks and taking his hand, stepped up and off the ladder. 

Soft footfalls behind her a few moments later told Adáriel that Haldir had reached the talan, and she turned to face him. 

"Will I be required to stay here long?" She asked in a businesslike tone. 

Haldir's face remained ever the mask it had been. 

"That remains to be seen." He answered, before leaving her standing on her own as he walked over to converse with his fellow guard. 

Adáriel felt a slight pang of anger as he abandoned her there, and with a heavy sigh she went and seated herself with her back against a thick limb of the tree. 

"I hope to Valar I will not be kept here long," She muttered. "Lest something unpleasant should occur to the March Warden." And following this, Adáriel proceeded to amuse herself with visions of Haldir falling from the edge of the flet. 

"Have some sense, Haldir and have a cleric take that thing out!" Thalion whispered to Haldir quietly, indicating to the arrow in the March Warden's shoulder as they stood in the shadows, talking in their soft tongues. 

Haldir simply fixed Thalion's pine-spray eyes with his own piercing blue ones in response, until his comrade was forced to look away. 

"Should I go to Caras Galadhon, and inform the Lord and Lady?" Thalion asked, keeping his eyes averted. 

"The Lady will already have knowledge of Her passing our borders." Haldir answered in his usual drawl, referring to Adáriel with indifference. 

Thalion nodded, all the while feeling more than a little frustrated. He knew asking Haldir why he had brought the she-Elf to the guard post would merely bring him the lashes of a sharp tongue and an arrogant glare, so he kept his mouth shut, choosing instead to silently tighten his grip on his bow shaft until his knuckles turned white. 

"I will keep guard." Haldir informed his comrade, looking out to the North East. "Watch the she-Elf. Closely." 

"I am fairly certain that She has a name." Thalion growled, unable to contain his frustration at Haldir's arrogance any longer. "Or did She not introduce herself to you, _March Warden_?" 

Haldir shot Thalion an icy glare. 

"Watch her." He repeated, before sweeping away into the deeper shadows. 

Thalion let out a heavy breath between his clenched teeth, and rapped the butt of his bow shaft on the flet in anger, sending a sharp 'clap' echoing out through the branches. 

From where she sat, Adáriel looked up at the noise, and saw the green-eyed Elf standing a little way away, staring furiously ahead of him. 

"Are you trying to set the leaves aflame with your glare, Tura Vä?" She asked quietly. 

The green-eyed Elf turned his head to look at her, and his features melted into a smile. 

"No indeed, my Lady." He replied. "It is the March Warden that sets my temper aflame." 

Adáriel's laughter warmed the night air like peels of candlelight. 

"May I ask your name?" She inquired. 

"Thalion, Arwenamin, of the Lothlórien Guard." Said the green-eyed Elf. "And yours?" 

"Adáriel of Southern Mirkwood." 

"You have travelled far." Thalion noted respectfully. "May I ask your business?" 

Adáriel shrugged. 

"To see Lothlórien. With the permission of the Lord and Lady of the Wood." She added hastily. "I have heard it described in many songs and stories back in our Lady's halls, and they sparked a burning curiosity and will to travel here and walk beneath the gilt boughs." Then she looked Thalion directly in the eye. "A _very_ strong will." 

"That, it seems, you have." Thalion chuckled. 

At that moment, Haldir swept back into the halo of silver lantern light, melting from the shadows. 

"She wishes to see you." He said, his tone apathetic. 

Adáriel didn't need to ask who Haldir was referring to - it was perfectly obvious, and she felt a sudden onset of nerves in her stomach. She was finally about to face the Lady of Light. 

"In the morning." Haldir continued, replacing Adáriel's butterflies with mixed relief and disappointment. "We will go on to Caras Galadhon at dawn." 

Adáriel nodded and then began to examine the cloth of her skirts, as it was obvious that the conversation had now ended. 

Thalion turned to Haldir. 

"So is She a servant of the Enemy?" He asked the March Warden, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Haldir looked at him with characteristic coolness. 

"She is not." He replied, unflustered. 

"Then may I be relieved of the duty of watching her as though She is about to grow fangs and start screaming in the Black Speech?" 

Haldir gave Thalion one of his piercing, expressionless stares. 

"You have a sharp tongue." He said quietly. "It is only a grief to me that your sense of duty does not remain as such." 

Thalion felt his heart errupt outrage in his chest, and he opened his mouth to blast Haldir with a verbal attack, but the March Warden cut straight across him. 

"Loosen your watch on Her, and turn your eyes instead to our borders - that is where the threat of the Enemy lies tonight." Then he paused, and leaned in closer to Thalion. "But for Valar's sake, do not let Her _off this flet!_" 

"Yes Captain." Thalion answered, his tone so bitter it was barely above a sulky hiss. 

Regardless of the manner of his reply, Haldir gave Thalion a controlled incline of his head, and turning away, faded back into the shadows to the deeper recesses of the flet. 

~*~ 

It had been a very long night. Adáriel had not found much rest, having surfaced from her open-eyed sleep many times only to find it was still dark and that the stars were still very much awake. After about the fifth lapse, she had given up, and simply lain there thinking, consciously trying not to wait for sleep, in the vague hopes that it would just come. 

Her mind covered a lot of thinking ground through the hours, but she found it slightly annoying that it didn't take long for her thoughts to drift onto the March Warden amid other trains of thought, their veering not detectable at all until they were already on the subject. 

As she had done with her fitful sleeping, Adáriel attempted several times to push Haldir from her head, but eventually, and most definitely against her will, she resignedly and grudgingly gave up the fight. Or had it been against her will... 

Adáriel didn't know why, or what, but there was definitely something slightly attractive she found about the March Warden. He was handsome, but it wasn't that - not just a physical pull...intelligence, perhaps? It was obvious that he _was_ very intellectual, but something in Adáriel always felt doubtful whenever she landed on that answer. Attitude? Adáriel's cynicism was so overpowering, she had to give a quiet laugh - _ridiculous!_ What on earth was attractive about his _attitude?_ But the longer she thought about it, the more her opinion on the possibility became open. Perhaps there was a certain appeal to his cold, aloof attitude, she pondered, but whatever it was, it was a very obscure appeal. 

Across the flet, Haldir stood well-hidden in the shadows, watching the She-elf. 

_'Beautiful.'_ He mused thoughfully. _'Admitted, yes. But then all the Elven maidens in Lothlorien - indeed, in Middle-Earth - are beautiful; that does not make her anything special. Intelligence she has, but that is nothing exceptional. But her attitude...'_ Haldir's mouth twitched into a smirk. _'She could teach a mule stubborn. Her hair colour, maybe...'_ Had Haldir been more mindful of his actions, he probably would have been horrified with himself at the leisurely length of time he spent inspecting Adáriel's long, deep auburn hair. _'Her hair colour is rare amongst us...Yes, she is beautiful, but a highly decorated bow will often shoot no better than a plain one - there is nothing so exceptional about her.' _

__And then, from the depths of his mind, a little voice rose up, strangely familiar: 

_'If there is nothing so exceptional about her, then why are you spending so much time devoting your thoughts to her? You think that she is beautiful - you have admitted as such, and you even honour her presence in your mind with a smile. She is more than just a travelling stranger to you...'_

__And in that second, it came to Haldir, with avenging horror, that the voice was right - he _was_ smiling! 

"She is nothing more to me than a travelling stranger." He hissed angrily to the shadows, the smile turning to a dark scowl, his eyes still fixed on the She-elf. "Why would she mean anything more? I do not even know her name!" 

_'Oh, but you do.' _The voice insisted. _'It's...'_

__"Adáriel. I know!" Haldir growled. And then his eyes widened at the realisation of what he had just said. 


End file.
